


Mind Palace

by BigSister



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: How Do I Tag, I Believe in Sherlock Holmes, I Tried, Jim Moriarty in Sherlock's Mind Palace, Moriarty is Alive, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Other, POV Original Character, Season/Series 03 Spoilers, Sherlock Has A Sister, Sherlock Series 3 Spoilers, Sherlock's Mind Palace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-12
Updated: 2015-08-12
Packaged: 2018-04-14 10:13:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4560687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BigSister/pseuds/BigSister
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In series 3 episode 3, Sherlock is shot and he is shown going into his mind palace. This is my spin on what happened inside his head. Also, in earlier episodes Mycroft said something about "the other one". The fandom has taken this as a hint of another Holmes sibling, most thinking another brother. I've thought of what Mycroft said and added a sister instead. She's inside Sherlock's mind palace and helps him when he gets shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mind Palace

Why was it always Sherlock? This was something I asked myself almost every day these days. Why was it that when ever something (good or bad) happened, Sherlock was always involved some way or another? Like now, there had been a shooting, and guess who had been shot: Sherlock. Who by?- Mary, John's wife. Where was Dr John when you needed him? Now, since Sherlock had been shot in the chest, he had three seconds of consciousness until he passed out. That meant, like any time he was in trouble, he'd got to his mind palace for answers. This time it was which way he should fall. 

After Anderson wasted 0.2 seconds, Mycroft had stepped in and told him he needed to fall backwards; if he didn't want to be murdered by the bullet. Molly had supported Mycroft, while Anderson had exited the room in a strop. Molly had also told him that if the bullet didn't kill him, the shock would. So he was now running around his mind palace to find something that would stop the shock. The first hallway he'd gone to was the one with the CHILDHOOD memories. In the hallway had lay Redbread, Sherlock's childhood dog. But as Sherlock had knelt down and called him, he had simply got up and walked back into the room Sherlock usually kept him in. This had stunned him, Redbread never ignored him. 

I was in the library Sherlock had put me in. It was a vast room, with hundreds of books on tall shelves that reached the high ceiling. Those books were all about me, Sherlock and Mycroft when we were growing up. The sign on the door leading in read: Siblings. Yes, despite how much he tried to pretend he hated Mycroft, he had labeled seven out of the twenty-two shelves as, MYCROFT. The next seven shelves were labeled, ARABELLA. The last eight were labeled, SHERLOCK. The silence was beautiful inside the library as I read a book from a MYCROFT shelf. A grunt from outside made my head jerk up, towards the door. That had sounded a lot like Sherlock. Placing the book gently the table beside me, I got up from my chair and headed for the door. Upon opening it, I sighed. Just three doors away was indeed Sherlock. He was on his knees, hunched over into himself, clutching his chest. Shutting the door behind me, I made my way to him. As I got closer I figured out why Redbread had ran away. Sherlock was pale and his eyes were red and puffy, he didn't look like Sherlock usually did. 

Kneeling in front of him I placed a hand on his shoulder. It was only then that he realized I was even in the hallway with him and he looked up. A smile broke out on his face and I returned it. "Hello little brother." Moving his arms away from his chest I looked at the blood soaking into his shirt. "What have you got yourself into now."

"Mary, she wasn't..." He gasped for air. "The shock, I need to stop it... Mycroft said,-" I stopped him there. 

"He told you that unless you stopped the shock, you'd die." My tone was calm, I needed to calm him down. Sherlock nodded, slowly putting his head on my shoulder. I rubbed small circles on his back, keeping my breathing even. I wished I was still alive, so I could kill Mary. Maybe I could find a clone of her inside Sherlock's mind palace and kill that. Though I'd have to be careful he didn't forget her, or else he'd wake up confused. "Mycroft has always been one for dramatics. Though I think it would be wise to listen to him about the calming down bit. Just this once."

Suddenly he gasped and began to shake. "I think the shock is gone." He said quietly, his pain leaking into his voice. 

"Without the shock, you'll feel the pain." I replied, moving away from him slowly. He removed his head from my shoulder and fell backwards, I tried to slow his fall by slowly lowering him to the floor. I could tell he was confused, he couldn't usually fell pain in his mind palace. "There's a hole, ripped through you. Massive internal bleeding." He screamed, and I shuttered, closing my eyes. I didn't like seeing my brother in pain. "You have to control the pain." Sherlock stopped shaking and tried to get up, I helped pulling him to his feet. 

"How do I control the pain?" He glanced at my chest, where I was shot. Sherlock didn't want to remember me as when I was dying, so there was no blood on me; just a small rip on my shirt. "You've done it before so tell me."

"I didn't stop it, just hid it... You need to find someone who doesn't feel pain. Or at least doesn't show they do."

He widened his eyes, understanding and knowing who (or what) he had to find. "James Moriarty. He doesn't feel pain."

"Then go to him. Now." The next thing I know, Sherlock's took off in a run down the hall, turning left. I ran after him, needing to make sure Moriarty didn't do more harm than good. Even though I was quicker than Sherlock, he had a head start and it was his mind palace. So once he entered the padded cell he kept Moriarty in, the door slammed shut behind him, almost hitting me in the face. Pushing my ear to the metal, I listened to them. A few minutes later all the lights in the hallway went out. That wasn't good. Going to the opposite side of the hall, I ran at the door with my full body weight. It fell off its hinges, and I tumbled to the ground. Immediately getting up, I felt a cold shiver run through me. Sherlock was lay on the ground. Moriarty was leaning over him, drooling. On seeing me he began to laugh, though he rushed away from Sherlock. "What did you do to him?" I yelled at James, kneeling beside Sherlock. "Sherlock, you can't die now. Think of Mary getting away with your murder because there's no evidence to say she did it." Nothing. I heard the beep of a hospital heart monitor, he was flat lining. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Mycroft peering in at the doorway. He made no move to come closer, just stayed there and watched as our little brother died. "Think of the danger everyone's in now." An idea struck me. "Think about John." His eyes opened, though he didn't move. "Think about how much danger he's in, John Watson's in danger Sherlock." 

The lights flickered on and he began to move. "You're not making him better are you?" James whined from his corner, curled away from me. 

"John married Mary, John's married a killer." Sherlock turned over and I stood, making room for him. Vibrations ran though his whole mind palace and he punched the floor, I faintly heard a beep on the heart monitor. Sherlock was getting better. "You need to save John, he's oblivious to the danger he's in, as usual. You're the only one that can help him." He hit the floor again, the heart monitor gave another beep. This time it was stronger, and another one followed. Then another. He'd restarted his own heart. 

Sherlock stood, leaning on the walls of James' cell. "You need to go Sherlock. You've been passed out for just under half an hour." Mycroft spoke in his unnaturally calm tone. "You're in a hospital and there's doctors operating on you, trying to get the bullet out of you. Your body can't stay awake long if there's nothing in your head." This was as much help as Mycroft could offer and it seemed to do the trick.

After a last look at me, Sherlock ran out of the cell, heading for the exit of his mind palace. With Sherlock gone there was a moment of stillness. "You broke the door..." Moriarty sang to me from his corner. "That means I can get out."

"You know Sherlock won't let you escape, this is his head after all. Nothing happens here without him knowing, you realize that." I said back to him, exiting the cell. Mycroft gave me a cold look as I passed him, not that I gave him much notice. Picking up the door with a grunt, I place it back where it used to stand. Holding it there for a few seconds, I know Sherlock is fixing it so I let go and it stays. After poking it, it opens slightly, meaning Sherlock's put it back on its hinges. Opening it enough to look in at James, I tell him, "you try hurting Sherlock again and I'll kill you."

He grins. "But that'll mean he forgets me."

"I'll get Sherlock to put you in a couple of books." His grin dropped, knowing I could kill him then. "Maybe I'll have him made a new room across the hall and stick post-it-notes on the walls about you, so he doesn't forget anything about you. That way you couldn't do any harm to him." He sank back glaring at me. "And now you're afraid, because you know I could do that." 

"I've always wondered, who are you?- To Sherly, I mean." 

"I'm Arabella. If you thought Mycroft was bad you've never really met me."

James shook his head. "You didn't answer me. Who are you to Sherlock?"

Sighing, I guessed there's was no harm in telling him. "I'm the second child of The Holmes' family. In other words I'm the middle child of the family; Mycroft's the oldest and Sherlock's the youngest."

Footsteps went down the hall and I saw Mycroft walking away, back to his room. "Then why do you look younger than twenty five? Not that I'm saying that Sherlock's old or anything, but he's older than thirty."

"Because I died when I was twenty three."

He raised his eyebrows. "Oh?" His tone was questioning, he was looking for more information.

"Yeah." Before he could ask anything else I shut the door and locked it. From the inside I heard James shout something, but I had already started for the library. 

The yells of Moriarty followed me there, though I ignored them as I went over to my chair. With a final sigh I picked up the book from the MYCROFT shelf and, once I had found my place, began reading again. 

This was all I did anymore. Help Sherlock whenever he deemed it useful, and read the books Sherlock had made to keep the memories of his childhood. In short, my life was now centered around Sherlock; a half life since I wasn't actually alive anyway. But then I realized something that almost made me drop my book. In the world outside Sherlock's mind palace Moriarty was dead, so why didn't the one inside his mind palace know that? The people kept in Sherlock's mind palace knew everything about themselves that Sherlock knew about them. For example the Mummy in his head knew what type of cookies Mycroft liked as a child; the Molly in his head knew how to determine how long someone had been dead. But the Moriarty inside his head didn't know he was dead. That could only mean... Sherlock didn't know if James Moriarty was really dead, even though he had seen him die. So Sherlock didn't even believe if he'd actually seen James kill himself, but why would he think that?

**Author's Note:**

> Answer:  
> Because to me James Moriarty is still alive. I don't know how or why, but I think he is.


End file.
